The morning was bright and sharp, the kind that made the sea look endless. For once the waves were low, only a long breathing swell beneath the rafts, as if the water itself waited for something. Rowan stood barefoot at the edge of the deck, trousers rolled, eyes fixed on the dark shape circling just below the surface.
Tani's spines broke the water now and then, cutting it like the teeth of a saw. That golden eye flashed once, deliberate as a lighthouse beam, before dipping back beneath. Waiting.
"You're stalling," Lyra called from her seat near the mast. She had a strip of dried kelp dangling from her mouth, her tone halfway between boredom and amusement. "He's waiting for you."
"I know he's waiting," Rowan muttered.
"Then do something," Lyra said. "Show him you're Keeper enough to deserve the title. Or at least Keeper enough not to look like driftwood with legs."
Luna sat nearby on a coil of rope, her hands busy braiding cord. She smiled faintly without looking up. "Ignore her. Just… don't overthink it. Tani isn't a sword to swing, Rowan. He's a partner. Ask him like you'd ask me."
Rowan frowned. "And if you said no?"
"Then you'd have to learn to dance instead."
Lyra snorted. "He's got two left feet. This will be fun."
Rowan drew a steadying breath. He dipped his head once to Luna, then slid into the water. Cold clamped down, and the sea swallowed the sounds of the deck. For a moment he floated suspended, nothing but bubbles rising from his hair. Then the shadow filled his vision.
Tani's massive eye turned toward him.
Rowan thrust out a hand, palm stiff, a command forming on his lips. Come.
The dragon blinked slowly, then rolled away with a flick of his tail that nearly spun Rowan end over end.
Above, Lyra's laughter echoed across the planks. "Beautiful. A masterclass."
Rowan broke the surface, sputtering. "Not funny."
"It's very funny," Lyra corrected.
Luna leaned over the railing, braid falling forward. "You're too forceful. He won't be ordered. Try again—but this time, don't push. Invite."
Rowan blew out a hard breath, rubbed salt from his eyes, and dove again.
This time, he didn't thrust his hand like a weapon. He let it drift open, fingers loose. An invitation, not a command.
The eye turned back to him.
Tani shifted, body undulating, the water bending with his passage. The current pulled Rowan, urging him into rhythm. He let himself sway, moved with the tide instead of against it. Slowly, impossibly, the Leviathan drew closer until the ridge of his brow brushed Rowan's palm.
A shiver ran through Rowan's arm—heat, power, something ancient that hummed down his bones. He grinned despite himself.
Then Tani flicked his tail. Rowan went tumbling end over end like a ragdoll, bubbles bursting from his mouth.
He surfaced to Lyra's delighted applause. "Graceful! Very acrobatic."
Rowan spat water. "He's toying with me."
Lyra's grin sharpened. "No. He's teaching you. He'll mirror what you give. If you fight, he'll fight. If you trust, he'll trust. But if you pretend? He'll know."
Rowan dragged himself onto the deck, dripping, shivering. Midg darted frantic circles in his bowl, tail whipping. The little fish splashed so hard he nearly toppled the bowl over.
"Jealous, are you?" Rowan muttered.
Midg leapt once, striking his wrist with a splash. Luna laughed. "Looks like you've got two students and only one teacher's patience."
Rowan sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Wonderful."
---
They tried again and again. Rowan learned to stop forcing, to let his breath slow until he felt the current before it touched him. When he stopped reaching, Tani came closer. When he opened his palm, the Leviathan pressed against it, leaving warmth even through the water.
Hours passed. Rowan's arms ached, his lungs burned—until he realized they didn't.
He had been under for minutes, maybe more, yet no panic clawed his chest. He drew water into his lungs as though it were air, cool and heavy but nourishing. He exhaled, and the sea rippled outward from his mouth in a wave that shoved a drifting barrel several paces.
Rowan surfaced in shock, clutching his chest. "What in—?"
Luna leaned forward, eyes wide. "Rowan… how long were you under?"
"I don't know." He coughed, then shook his head. "Too long. And when I breathed out—" He gestured to the bobbing barrel.
Lyra tilted her head. "Interesting. Your lungs aren't yours anymore. The sea's inside them."
Rowan muttered, "Feels like cheating."
"Feels like surviving," Luna corrected.
---
That night, after the day's training had ended and the fleet settled into quiet, Rowan sat by the fire with a blanket draped over his shoulders. His muscles trembled with exhaustion. Midg floated lazily in his bowl, occasionally flicking to splash a tiny arc of water onto Rowan's wrist.
Mira settled beside him, her expression thoughtful. She had been quiet during the training, watching. Now her eyes gleamed in the firelight. "Rowan," she asked softly, "when he's inside you… what does it feel like? What can you do?"
Rowan hesitated. The words felt too large for his mouth. But Mira's gaze was steady, curious, and not demanding. He tried.
"It's… different with each of them," he began slowly. He tapped his chest. "With Midg, it's like sparks in my blood. Quick. Sharp. I can move faster, see sharper edges." He paused. "With Tani… it's heavier. Like the sea presses into me. My lungs forget what air is. I can breathe water like it's nothing. And when I exhale—" He lifted a hand, flexing his fingers. "It's not breath anymore. It's pressure. A wave I can shove through anything in front of me."
Mira leaned closer. "And more?"
Rowan swallowed. "The dark isn't dark anymore. I can see the way currents pull. I can feel corruption in the water. Not smell, not sight—just wrongness. Like oil in the back of my throat."
He flexed his fists, looked down at the scars on his palms. "And for a moment, I can pull like the tide itself. Break ropes. Lift beams. But it drains me quick. Leaves me shaking."
Mira's eyes were wide, lips parted. "That's… incredible." Then, carefully: "And when both—when Midg and Tani—are inside at once?"
Rowan stiffened. The fire popped between them. "I don't know." His voice was low, rough. "Midg makes me quick. Tani makes me unbreakable. Together… I can't even imagine it. And maybe I shouldn't."
Before Mira could push further, Luna settled beside them, offering Rowan a cup of broth. Her tone was gentle but firm. "One is enough. For now."
Rowan drank, the warmth sliding down his throat, but the unease lingered. He glanced at Midg, who flicked against his finger, and then to the water where Tani's golden eye glimmered faintly in the dark. Both waiting. Both his.
For the first time, he wondered if his friends expected more of him than he could give.